


so you wanna be a rockstar

by ElasticElla



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Consent Issues, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Michaela asks Laurel to go to the club with her to gather evidence, she agrees without thinking. She's finally on Professor Keating's good side, and she'll do just about anything to keep that up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so you wanna be a rockstar

**Author's Note:**

> this, and the title, are a result of listening to JC Chasez's All Day Long I Dream About Sex on repeat. whoops. just as trashy and self-indulgent as it sounds, **and** written late at night for the triple point score ^.^

When Michaela asks Laurel to go to the club with her to gather evidence, she agrees without thinking. She's finally on Professor Keating's good side, and she'll do just about anything to keep that up. Anything tonight apparently means dressing a little more eye-catching than usual and acting as Michaela's girlfriend. 

Michaela rings her, saying she'll be over soon to pick her up, and Laurel reminds herself to breathe properly. This wasn't a real date, Michaela was engaged, and her skirt was only a little shorter than normal. She could pull off nonchalant, she could. Yeah. Totally. 

She's three-quarters through a self-motivating talk when the doorbell chimes, and she answers near instantly. Michaela's wearing a short flashy gold dress and a black leather jacket, her eyes dragging over Laurel. 

"Cute, but we're going to a lesbian swinger club, not a picnic. You need to change." 

Laurel flushes, "Sure, gimme a-"

"I'll help, we don't have all night." 

Laurel represses a sigh, and leads Michaela up to her room and closet. Michaela's perfectly manicured fingers rapidly flick through Laurel's clothes, and she's amazed when the woman proves to actually be seeing the clothes, tossing an assortment on her bed. 

"Well? Start trying them on as I keep looking," Michaela says, and Laurel hurries to comply. The bathroom's far away and Michaela's deep in her closet- and turned away- so Laurel changes quickly, trying to beat back the blush in her cheeks. She'd changed a million times in front of girls for gym, this was just the same. 

Michaela nixes the first three dresses, a skirt, and two blouses. Laurel's beginning to get worried when Michaela lets out a victorious yelp, emerging from her closet with clothes Laurel had long forgotten about. 

"This. This is what you're wearing." 

"I-"

" _No_."

Laurel doesn't bother hiding her frown, "-will need you to lace it up then." 

Michaela just smiles, saccharine sweet, and Laurel thinks she just made a deal with a demon. 

In a blue and black corset, too tight dark jeans, and red stilettos, Laurel can hardly recognize herself. Michaela is pleased, and drags her away from her reflection, saying they were going to make perfect time.

Lola's is packed at ten- sweat, perfume, smoke, and alcohol heavy in the air. She's holding Michaela's hand, but more than a few women have been checking out her date. She follows her to the bar, wondering how out of character it would be to glare at the other women. Laurel listens to Michaela order them long island iced teas, and figures on swinger's night it'd be way too questionable. 

Michaela leans into her, her hard back pressing into Laurel's front and making her instinctively want to step back. She turns her head to whisper, and Laurel forces herself to watch the bartender make their drinks. 

"Remember we need the owner. After this, we'll dance." 

Laurel lets out a fake giggle, and Michaela gives her a very unimpressed look. The drinks are set down saving Laurel from admitting she wasn't sure how to pull off a steady and committed feeling. The drinks are gone all too soon, Laurel's head is beginning to buzz, and Michaela brings her out to the crowded dance floor. 

Someone nearby must have just smoked- Laurel would kill for some weed right now. The last time she danced with a girl was middle school, and with a boy was high school- and why did she think she could pull this off? 

"Easy, just move with me," Michaela whispers in her ear. Her smaller hands are hot on Laurel's lower back, pulling her in further. The song changes to something catchy- there are more than a few shouts- and Laurel half-knows it. She isn't moving much, Michaela's obviously garnering all the attention, and rather than incite her to dance, it makes Laurel more nervous. 

"Kiss me." 

The demand is said almost teasingly, and Laurel obeys- kissing the bare slip of shoulder. Perhaps the alcohol kicks in, or maybe it's the way the red head is watching her lips- the owner, the back of her mind whispers-, but she moves them up to Michaela's neck next. She nips her perfect skin, and moves up under her chin, her jaw, up to her lips. 

They taste superficially the same, the same alcohol and iced tea blend. Michaela's mouth is sweeter, but before she can go too deep, Michaela's pulling away. Her smirking lips land on her neck, harshly biting- it'll bruise, they both know-, and go lower, lower than either expect. She's kissing her pumped up cleavage when the owner asks for a dance, and introduces herself as Bella. 

Michaela pulls away with a grin, and Laurel can acutely feel the cooling saliva on her breasts.

"We'd love to." 

It's higher stakes now, and to distract from her poor dancing, Laurel kisses the woman's neck, _a lot_. Enough that their dancing completely dissolves into making out. Enough that Bella pulls them to the side of the dance floor. 

"I'm afraid my partner's out of town for switching. But if you two want a threesome, I actually have rooms here." 

Laurel and Michaela exchange glances, and Michaela agrees that they'd like that, her hand curving around Bella's waist. 

The room is bare, just a large bed and a side table. It's sketchy, especially given the location, but both ignore it, the three finally having room to all kiss at once. As things heat up, Michaela excuses herself to run to the bathroom. 

She whispers, loud enough so Bella can definitely hear, "When I get back, I want both of you soaked." 

It shouldn't send a tingle down Laurel's back. She gives her a playful kiss before turning to Bella, as Michaela leaves. 

"That's okay, right?" 

Bella laughs, her red curls shaking, and they meet in a sloppy kiss before flopping back on the bed. Bella scrambles on top, holding her down as if she were going to struggle, and Laurel lets a small giggle pass her lips. The whole situation was ridiculous. The most perhaps being that if Bella's partner weren't out of town and most likely murdering another someone, Laurel would love to be here. 

Laurel bucks her hips up- best not to seem unresponsive- and gets a smothering kiss in return. Bella sure likes to pull her hair, and she doesn't restrain herself from pulling on the red curls in return. They toss about, and eventually hands are wedged between thighs, palms pressing on vulvas through jeans. The two get caught up in it, Bella enough so Laurel's palm is wet. 

She wears a wicked grin when she asks, "What's taking your girl so long? I'm _beyond_ ready." 

Laurel bites her lip, about to pick a silly excuse when Michaela is suddenly back. The look is apologetic, and Laurel moves into the next phase. 

"Babe? Are you feeling okay?" 

"Yeah, you don't look so great..." Bella adds, her hand falling still. 

Michaela winces and mutters, "Migraine."

"Oh," Laurel coos, getting up, and turning to Bella apologetically, "I'm _so_ sorry, I need to take her home- otherwise she'll be stuck with it all of tomorrow." 

Bella's eyes flicker to Michaela, "Of course." And pulling out a business card she adds, "If you two ever want to pick up again, call me." 

Laurel smiles, squeezing her hand, "Thank you. I hope your night goes better." 

They don't talk until they're in the car driving back home. 

"That was some great acting," Michaela says, "and I got the files." 

Laurel swallows and smiles, "Great." 

And when they part for the evening with a quick hug, Laurel's not disappointed. She's _not_.


End file.
